


Old Friends

by xfandomwritingsx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Borderline Adultery, F/M, Reader-Insert, Smut, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 14:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17184914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfandomwritingsx/pseuds/xfandomwritingsx
Summary: After having a mutual attraction for too many years, you and Chris finally crack.





	Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Another one moved over from Tumblr.

You wish he’d stop looking at you like that. It’s a look you know all too well and you’re not sure you have the willpower to resist it anymore. You’d only had a thing for the man since you met all those years ago and he’s always been unavailable. That look has always been a dirty one, one that comes with obligatory guilt because a married man shouldn’t look at a friend like that, with slow, piercing eyes and subtle smirks. His tongue licks at his lips and draws back into his mouth to let his teeth barely scrape against his bottom lip. It’s that look that makes you quiver.

You and Chris had always had a borderline inappropriate relationship while he was married. You were friends, hunters, colleagues and that was all fine, but there was always an underlying layer to it all that you hid. There was that complete and irresistible attraction that burned at both of you and came out on late nights after a few drinks.

After Victoria would go to bed, you and Chris would always say _just one more drink_ and that drink always lasted at least another hour or two. The touches between friends became a little less friendly and a little more suggestive, a little more heated. His fingers lingered on your skin and your playful pat on his knee kept rising up higher and higher on his leg.

The nights almost always ended with another one of those looks and it took everything you had, every shred of your willpower, not to tell him to hell with his wife and fuck him on his kitchen table or his couch or wherever you happened to be that night.

One night when Victoria had gone to bed early after not feeling well, the drinks and suggestive actions carried on for longer than they had previously and you nearly broke. You were in the kitchen getting refills or something, the details are a little fuzzy now. You somehow ended up with Chris standing behind you, pressing into your back and leaning around your shoulder.

There was no kiss, which practically tore you apart because all you wanted to do was devour him, but you tried to tell yourself that because there was no kiss, that it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Really though, the way he pressed into you was _much_ worse than a kiss. His hands gripped your hips and when he ground against you, you felt his cock slowly rising up between you, pressing hard into your ass and you let out a low moan. You arched back, pressing back into him and his head dipped down so you could hear when he hissed in a breath. One of your hands reached behind you and tangled in his hair, gripping at it. He kept grinding into you. 

You whispered his name and the sound of your voice managed to clear both of your senses. He pulled away and when you turned around, you tried not to notice the regret in his eyes, tried not to wonder if it was guilt-ridden because of his wife or pure longing he wasn’t able to fulfill.

After that, you both kept your distance, afraid you would go too far if given another chance. You haven’t seen him in a very long time. You saw him once at Victoria’s funeral and gave him sincere condolences, but contact has been scarce since then for a number of reasons.

But then Allison called for yours and your group’s help and you weren’t about to say no. If the Argents needed help, you were there. Things slipped back into a familiar pattern of hunting when you arrived and everything felt the same. Except he wasn’t married anymore.

And he’s still looking at you like that.

You’re all gathered around the dining room table, paper scattered around and making plans. It feels good to be there, good to be surrounded by people you know. Chris keeps his eyes on you the whole time and you pass smiles between each other. As things start to wrap up, that’s when he starts giving you that infamous look.

It makes you fidgety and feel yourself shift from one foot to the other a couple of times. Your insides heat up and you look away out of habit. You don’t have to. He’s not married anymore. You’re two single people lusting after each other and you don’t have to hide it.

And yet for some reason beyond your understanding, when the night comes to an end, you don’t stay. You linger in his doorway drawing out your goodbye, keeping space between you as if someone might see and disapprove, as if you’re still doing something wrong.

“Thank you for the help,” he says with a smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s my pleasure,” you tell him honestly. “Feels like old times.” The words hang in the air and his smile softens.

“Yes it does,” he agrees, his voice taking on that husky tone that still makes your core melt. You know you’re both considering it, that you both want you to just push him back into his house and stay there. It still seems wrong somehow, even with Victoria gone. So instead, you say your goodbyes and you go back to your hotel feeling heavy and frustrated.

It’s not even an hour later when there’s a strong knock on your door. Confused and thrown off guard, you grab your pistol and push the safety off. Carefully and quietly, you look through the hotel room door’s peephole. Chris stands on the other side waiting patiently. You put the safety back on and tuck it into the back of your jeans.

You open the door smoothly, copying his earlier stance and leaning on the doorframe. You cock your head and look at him questioningly.

“You left your purse at the house,” he says plainly, holding your bag up into the air. You smile and bite your lip.

“Thanks.” You pluck it from his hand and there it is again. That look. It’s sending tingles straight between your legs and you decide you’re done playing around. “Is that the only reason you came by?” A smirk breaks out on his lips and you suddenly feel very floaty.

“No,” he says slowly. He doesn’t need to say more than that.

“Then get in here.” You toss your purse carelessly behind you while reaching out to him with your other hand. He lets you pull him in by his shirt, but there’s not much pulling actually happening. He’s nearly stumbling into the hotel with enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around your waist and crashing into you.

The kiss is wild and desperate, both of you finally falling into each other after all these years. There’s no waiting, no tentative hesitation. He kisses you openly, tongues and teeth clashing and making you writhe underneath him. His beard scratches against your face, making your skin sensitive and prickly, just like you always imagined it would. You want so badly to know if it would feel the same on the skin of your inner thighs.

Chris is passionate and needy, using his foot to close the door behind him so that he never needs to lift his hands off your body.  Your own hands run over his chest and up to his face, through his hair. He takes the gun from your pants and drops it on the floor before his hands slide to your ass. A moan slips through your lips when he cups and squeezes and pulls you up, lifting your feet off the ground.

You wrap your legs around his waist like they’ve always meant to be there and relish in the feeling of how you can feel him starting to harden right under your cunt. His fingertips dig into your flesh as he starts to walk.

He throws you off of him and you land on the bed with a soft thud on your back. He practically tears his shirt off before he’s climbing on top of you, pressing his weight into you and grinding.

“Jesus,” you curse out in a whisper. He chuckles over you and things slow down for just a moment. One of his fingers trails down your jawline.

“Been waiting a long time for this,” he says roughly. You find your hands running down his back, memorizing every bumpy scar and piece of smooth muscle your fingers glide over. He uses his finger to turn your head and his lips come down to your neck. He sucks on your pulse point and small, hot shocks start expanding through your body. “Thought about this so many fucking times.”

“Oh yeah?” you whisper breathlessly. Your nails start to drag against his skin and he arches into you.

“Yeah.” His lips come up and bite gently at the shell of your ear while his hand starts slipping underneath your shirt. “Used to slip into the shower early the mornings after you left so I could get myself off without her knowing,” he confesses. You never thought it would sound so hot, but fuck it did.

“I couldn’t…” The words get stuck in your throat and another moan falls out as he bypasses your bra completely, shoving his hand under it to take your bare breast in his palm. “I couldn’t fall asleep after coming home without touching myself.” His groan vibrates on your throat and you feel him grow a little harder against your leg.

“I’m going to make you scream.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers and you arch your back. You twist your head back to him and forcefully kiss him, swallowing your moans and biting on his lower lip.

He pulls his mouth from yours and starts to drift down your body. As he slides down, he pulls the hem of your shirt up so that he can kiss and lick at the skin of your abdomen before he settles between your legs. He doesn’t waste any time, fingers flying to your belt to undo it and your jeans before dipping his hands into the waistband of both them and your panties. He yanks them down and you lift your hips to help him remove them.

He drags your hips to the edge of the bed and drops down to his knees. You try to watch him, lift your head to see the devilish smirk on his face, but the sight of him is too much. Your head drops back onto the bed and you shut your eyes. His hands are on your thighs, spreading them further apart and exposing your wet pussy to him.

He makes you wait. He runs his fingers down your knees and then up to the juncture of your hip, coming _so close_ to touching you the way you want him to. He dips his head and you can feel his breath fan out over you, a hot wave over your exposed and air-chilled center. It’s only when your fists are balled into the comforter, squirming with anticipation that his tongue trails up your slit.

You let out a long, high pitched moan and try to stay still. His arms slip under your thighs and hold onto your hips. He pulls you forward, burying his face between your legs. His tongue delves deep into you, his beard scratching and tickling your lips and your thighs, his nose rubbing lightly on your clit.

He scoops his tongue as he pulls it out, tasting you and drawing out the feeling. He starts lapping at you, alternating between long, heavy licks using the whole pad of his tongue and little dips into you with just the tip. When he sucks your clit between his lips, one of your hands releases its grip on the comforter and tangles in his hair. You can feel his lips smile against you.

One of his hands releases your hip and slips out from under your leg. He focuses his mouth on your clit, flicking it and circling it, making you lift your hips and pull at his hair. Your moans are getting louder, more erratic. He lets one finger play along your pussy lips, spreading your juices before pushing it as deep as he can inside of you.

“Fuck, Chris,” you moan out, the sensations starting to wrack through your body. “More,” you plead. He pulls his finger out to add another when he pushes back in. His fingers start to pump in and out of you, his tongue adding pressure to your clit. “Oh god.”

When he moans into you, the mix of the vibrations and the overload of all the other pleasures rippling through you makes your whole body arch and go rigid. A strangled cry comes from your mouth as your orgasm hits. Your knuckles turn white as you squeeze your fists.

Chris lets you ride out your high on his face, cleaning you up with his tongue and kissing your thighs when you finally come down. When you open your eyes, it takes a few minutes to focus. At first all you see is fuzzy black, but when your breathing returns to a somewhat normal state, you look down at Chris to see him smirking up at you, wiping at his beard.

Your body feels tired, spent, and over sensitive. He stands and crawls back over you, placing a wet kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue and the tired feeling is already starting to fade away.

“Ready for bed?” he teases in between kisses. You chuckle against his lips and push at his chest playfully.

“Not until I get that cock inside of me,” you tell him roughly. The slightest growl rumbles from his throat. “I’ve wanted to feel you fuck me for way too long.” He bites at your lip before slipping away and standing back up.

“Take off the rest of your clothes.” You’ve always loved when he told you what to do. It’s that commanding _do what I say and I’ll praise you later_ voice that makes you melt into a submissive puddle. You sit up and pull your shirt over your head as he works his pants. By the time you get your bra off, he’s standing naked in front of you. “Disappointed?” He cocks an eyebrow and you bite your lip with a smile.

You try not to stare, but he wraps his fingers around his cock confidently and starts stroking himself slowly. It’s impossible not to stare. He’s even better in person than you imagined, thick and long and god you wish it was your hand around him.

“You’ve been a tease for too many years, Argent,” you tell him. “Get over here and fuck me.” You crawl backwards on the bed, spreading your legs on the bedspread and pushing your breasts out.

“I’ve been a tease?” he asks, walking back up to the bed and climbing up to you. “You were the one tempting a married man.” His voice drops down and he leans down, coming so close, but never touching you. “You were the one putting your hand on my thigh, making sure when you drug it away, you pulled at my pants making them shift against my cock. You were the one always sitting next to me, pressing against me. You were the one who pressed your tits against me when we hugged, insisted we be the one to go into small spaces where you could squeeze in with me and rub right where you knew would drive me mad.”

“And you were the one who pushed back,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to pull him down. His cock hangs between you, gently bumping against your pussy teasingly. “You always needed something in a cabinet above me, reaching up behind me and pressing into my ass.” His lips brush against yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Always looking at me like you wanted to rip my clothes off. Always slipping me away out of her view.” You’re both breathing heavily and aching. One of his hands reaches between you to grab his cock and line it up.

“Should have just fucked you,” he grunts. He rubs the tip along your wet lips and you dig your fingers into his shoulders.

“Do it now,” you tell him.

He lowers his hips and pushes into you. You keep your eyes locked on each other, mouth open in silent moans and he sinks in. He feels so big inside of you, filling you up like you’ve always craved. When he bottoms out and you can feel his balls pressing against your ass, he pauses. You both have a hungry yet satisfied look in your eyes.

When you’ve had your fill of enjoying the moment, when your walls involuntarily squeeze around him making him throb, he braces his hands next to your shoulders and starts pumping his hips. You’re wet enough that there’s no need to take it slow. And you sure as hell don’t want to.

He fucks you fast, making up for lost time. He slides in and out of you, creating friction that makes you wrap your legs around his waist, wanting more. His head dips down to your neck where he kisses and licks and bites at you. You moan in his ear and rake your nails down his back.

The hotel mattress springs squeak as he pounds into you. The amount of pleasure you feel is immense. Every little touch, every small brush of his skin sets your nerves on fire. You can feel him throbbing as he fucks you, stretching you out just the smallest bit every time.

“God, Chris,” you moan. His lips rise up to your ear.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers. His breath is ragged and his teeth scrape over your skin. “Where do you want it?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s asking, to actually hear his words.

“In me,” you tell him. “Fuck, I’ve always wanted you to cum in me.” He groans and his hips fall out of pace for just a moment. You turn your face and start to return the attention he gave you on his neck. You nip at his ear and keep talking to him. “I wanted nothing more than to feel your cum dripping down my legs after.” He shutters again and you can feel your own pleasure building again. “Chris, you’re going to make me cum again.”

“Shit,” he groans one more time. His hips snap to yours and you can feel his cock swell inside of you, feel his balls pressed tight and high against you. Your heels dig into his ass, burying him deep inside of you when he cums. You can’t actually feel him cum, he’s buried too far, but you feel the warmth and the way his entire body tightens. You can hear the gasp in your ear and you’re shuddering around him, walls squeezing tight.

He tries not to collapse on top of you when he’s spent. His arms shake with exhaustion and he wants to roll over and relax, but he doesn’t want to pull out just quite yet. So instead he kisses you. It’s sloppy and tired, but the passion is still there.

You both make sounds of protest when he finally pulls away and slips out of you. He flops down onto his back next to you and you both stare at the ceiling catching your breath. His hand finds yours and starts tracing invisible patterns on the back of it. He starts chuckling softly.

“Normally, I’m not that quick,” he says, still chuckling. You can’t help but join him. 

“Neither am I,” you admit. You turn your head to look at him and his eyes are glazed over with that post-sex cloudy daze and you can’t help but find it adorable. “Is it weird we’re in a hotel room?” you question, not quite coherent enough to consider if you make sense. He raises an eyebrow at you. “I mean,” you pause and swallow to clear your head. “We don’t have to sneak around.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have left my house,” he teases. You swat playfully at his bare chest and try to regain normal breathing. You both stay laying down and watch each other for a little while with small smiles. 

“You hungry?” you ask. His smile widens.

“Starving,” he laughs.

“Room service?” You sit up and grab the menu off the bedside table. He shuffles himself up to sit beside you and look over your shoulder. He presses small kisses to your skin and then one on your cheek.

“Can I put pants on first?”

 


End file.
